Jeffrey Archer - Sons of Fortune

By six o’clock the Republicans had a clear lead, and Fletcher tried not to show that he was feeling a little depressed. ‘Relax,’ said Jimmy, and promised him it would look better in a couple of hours’ time; what he didn’t mention was that by this time in the evening, his father always had a small lead and therefore knew he’d won. Fletcher envied those who were running for seats where they weighed the votes.

‘How much easier to relax if you knew you were certain to win, or certain to lose.’

‘I wouldn’t know how that feels,’ said Jimmy, ‘Dad won his first election by 121 votes before I was born, and during the past thirty years built up his majority to just over 11,000, but he always says if sixty-one people had voted the other way, he would have lost that first election, and might never have been given a second chance.’ Jimmy regretted the words the moment he said them.

By seven, Fletcher was relieved to see a few more blue lines appearing on the sheets and although the Republicans were still in the lead, the feeling was that it would go to the line. Jimmy had to cut the last six houses down to eleven minutes each, and even then he didn’t reach the final two until after the poll had closed.

‘What now?’ asked Fletcher as he walked away from the last house.

Jimmy checked his watch. ‘Back to HQ and listen to the tallest stories you’ve ever heard. If you win, they will become folklore, and if you lose, they will be disowned and quickly forgotten.’

‘Like me,’ commented Fletcher.

Jimmy turned out to be right, because back at HQ everyone was talking at once, but only the foolhardy and naturally optimistic were willing to predict what the result would be. The first exit poll was broadcast minutes after the last vote had been cast and showed that Hunter had won by a whisker. The national polls were predicting that Ford had beaten Carter.

‘History repeating itself,’ said Harry as he walked into the room. ‘Those same guys were telling me that Dewey was going to be our next president. They also said I’d lose by a whisker, and we cut both those whiskers off, so don’t worry about straw polls, Fletcher, they’re for straw men.’

‘What about the turnout?’ asked Fletcher, recalling Jimmy’s words.

‘Too early to be sure, it’s certainly over fifty per cent, but not fifty-five.’

Fletcher looked around at his team and realized that it was no longer any use thinking about how to gather in votes, as the time had come to count them.

‘There’s not much else we can do now,’ said Harry, ‘except to make sure that our tellers register at City Hall before ten. The rest of you should take a break, and we’ll all meet up at the count later. I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night.’

In the car on the way to Mario’s, Harry told Fletcher he couldn’t see a lot of point in them turning up much before eleven, ‘so let’s have a quiet meal and follow the party’s fortunes in the rest of the country on Mario’s television.’

Any chance of a quiet meal evaporated when Fletcher and Harry entered the restaurant, and several of the diners rose to their feet and applauded the two men all the way to their table in the corner. Fletcher was pleased to find his parents had already arrived, and were enjoying a drink.

‘So what can I recommend?’ asked Mario once everybody had settled down.

‘I’m too tired to even think about it,’ said Martha. ‘Mario, why don’t you go ahead and choose for us, as you’ve never taken any notice of our opinion in the past.’

‘Of course, Mrs Gates,’ said Mario, ‘just leave it to me.’

Annie stood up and waved when Joanna and Jimmy walked in. As Fletcher kissed Joanna on the cheek, he glanced over her shoulder to see Jimmy Carter on Mario’s television arriving back at his ranch, and moments later President Ford stepping on to a helicopter. He wondered what sort of a day they’d had.

‘Your timing is perfect,’ said Harry as Joanna took the seat next to him, ‘we’ve only just arrived. How are the children?’

Within minutes, Mario returned carrying two large plates of antipasti, while a waiter followed with two carafes of white wine. ‘The wine is on the house,’ declared Mario, ‘I think maybe you make it,’ he said as he poured a glass for Fletcher to taste. Someone else who wasn’t willing to predict the result.

Fletcher put a hand under the table and touched Annie’s knee. ‘I’m going to say a few words.’

‘Must you?’ said Jimmy, pouring himself a second glass of wine. ‘I’ve heard enough speeches from you to last a lifetime.’

‘It will be short, I promise you,’ Fletcher said as he rose from his place, ‘because everyone I want to thank is at this table. Let me start with Harry and Martha. If I hadn’t sat next to their dreadful little brat on my first day at school, I would never have met Annie, or indeed Martha and Harry, who have changed my whole life, although in truth it is my mother who is to blame, because it was she who insisted that I went to Hotchkiss rather than Taft. How different my life might have been if my father had had his way.’ He smiled at his mother. ‘So thank you.’ He sat down just as Mario reappeared at their table carrying another bottle of wine.

‘I don’t remember ordering that,’ said Harry.

‘You didn’t,’ said Mario, ‘it’s a gift from a gentleman sitting on the far side of the room.’

‘That’s very kind of him,’ said Fletcher, ‘did he leave his name?’

‘No, all he said was that he was sorry not to be able to give you more help during the election, but he’s been involved in a takeover. He’s one of our regulars,’ added Mario, ‘I think he’s something to do with Russell’s Bank.’

Fletcher looked across the restaurant and nodded when Nat Cartwright raised a hand. He had a feeling that he’d seen him somewhere before.

‘How did she manage it?’ asked Tom, his face ashen.

‘She chose her victim well and, to be fair, she paid meticulous attention to detail.’

‘But that doesn’t explain...’

‘How she knew we would agree to transfer the money? That was the easy part,’ said Nat. ‘Once all the other pieces had fallen neatly into place, all Julia had to do was call Ray and instruct him to move her account to another bank.’

‘But Russell’s closes at five, and most of the staff leave before six, especially at a weekend.’

‘In Hartford.’

‘I don’t understand,’ said Tom.

‘She instructed our chief cashier to transfer the full amount to a bank in San Francisco, where it was still only two in the afternoon.’

‘But I only left her alone for a few minutes.’

‘Long enough for her to make a phone call to her lawyer.’

‘Then why didn’t Ray contact me?’

‘He tried to, but you weren’t in the office and she took the phone off the hook when you got home, and don’t forget when I called you from LA, it was three thirty, but it was six thirty in Hartford and Russell’s was already closed.’

‘If only you hadn’t been on vacation.’

‘My bet is she took that into consideration as well,’ said Nat.

‘But how?’

‘One call to my secretary asking for an appointment that week, and she would have known I would be in LA, and no doubt you confirmed as much soon after you’d met her.’

Tom hesitated. ‘Yes, I did. But it doesn’t explain why Ray didn’t refuse to action the transfer.’

‘Because you’d deposited the full amount in her account, and the law is very clear in a case like this: if she asks for a transfer, we have no choice but to carry out her instructions. As her lawyer pointed out when he called Ray at four fifty, by which time you were on your way back home.’